The Criminal I Crave
Alfred said while walking towards the coffee maker.
“What type of coffee do you prefer, black or creamy?” He asked Melody, clicking the two mugs together.
“Creamy, sir,” Melody responded slightly, staring at Alfred, who didn't seem to spare her a glance.
“Antonio is not like every other criminal; he has his tricky ways,” Melody insisted, staring at her boss with all inconvenience.
“What ways, Melody?” Alfred demanded adamantly, but she wasn't willing to talk.
How would she even tell her boss? She was involved with a criminal. How would she even tell her boss that the tricky ways he had were the ways he made her moan in sexual frustration?